


Circle of Friends

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:58:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Why did Methos want Kristen dead? Why did he urge Duncan and Richie to kill her? Why not just go ahead and do it himself? Amanda questioning Methos about not getting married alludes to a clip I saw of the DVD Reunion. Didn't see it, but in it Amanda is trying to seduce Methos even though she heard he was engaged.





	Circle of Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Circle of Friends by Ria

_Circle of Friends_

By Ria 

Why did Methos want Kristen dead? Why did he urge Duncan and Richie to kill her? Why not just go ahead and do it himself? Amanda questioning Methos about not getting married alludes to a clip I saw of the DVD _Reunion._ Didn't see it, but in it Amanda is trying to seduce Methos even though she heard he was engaged. 

This is a follow-up to _Dreammaker._

* * *

It was nothing personal, she told herself. The night breeze blew her black trench open and she drew her sword. It _was_ usually nothing personal. Although there had been a few of times Immortals had come after her for personal reasons and vice versa, it was just part of the Game. This kid in front of her, all of eighteen years old had challenged her twenty minutes earlier. His brown hair blown by the breeze, blue eyes full of anger, he was just a baby...a spoiled baby. 

At first she'd laughed and told him to come back in ten years, but he'd insisted. She had walked away and he'd come after her. This wasn't what she had planned when she'd gone for a late night walk. All she had wanted was a midnight stroll to relax and take in the cool air. Yet, this is what she'd run into. 

She fought him and in minutes had him in position to take his head. "Sorry it had to come to this." 

"Bi..." She didn't let him finish the word. 

The lightning came quickly encircling her as she took the young Immortal's quickening. Her body shuddered as it absorbed it as well as his memories. A pity, she thought. From the quickening she gathered he was a rich, spoiled boy who felt entitled because of his looks and wealth. He'd been Immortal less than a year. 

"Stupid, stupid," she said. In over 3,000 years of life she couldn't understand why these young Immortals were so eager to fight without training. "Stupid," she said again, dusting herself off. 

She exited the alleyway in the opposite direction of the body. 

The breeze gently blew on her face and she welcomed nature's kiss. In one of those rare moments in her life, she suddenly wanted to be around people despite her hatred of crowds. Since living in Seacouver, it seemed she'd engaged in more fights than any other place she had lived. Maybe it was time to move. 

The neon sign beckoned her and she shook her head. "Cosmic joke," she laughed. JOE'S sign mocked her, daring her to come in. She hadn't been here in over nine years, yet it was the first place she saw. She didn't believe in signs and wasn't superstitious, but it seemed right to go in after all these years. It was a good night and she was still alive. 

Entering, she headed straight for the bar, quickly glancing at the table of three young women who were laughing at a joke one of them had said. 

"Hi. What can I get you?" asked the bearded man. 

"Hmmm. I think I'd like a margarita, please. Not frozen, salted rim." 

"Coming right up." A minute later he returned with her drink. "I haven't seen you here before. New in town?" 

Shaking her head, she said, "I've been here a while. I was actually here once several years ago." 

"Service that bad?" Joe smiled at the curly haired woman. Her eyes were large and bright, her cheeks flush with the cool night air. 

"Not at all," she laughed. "I didn't even have a drink. I was meeting a friend." 

"Well, welcome back. I'm Joe Dawson by the way. Proprietor," he said extending his hand. 

"Carmen Lopez. Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. 

"I hope you come back." 

"Thanks, Joe." 

The place had not changed since she'd been here. Her eyes and ears on alert as usual she caught part of the conversation the young women were having. 

"I can't believe you're going to be on the cover of Vogue! Imagine if they hadn't found you Maria, you wouldn't be so famous now." 

"I'd be dead. Kristen was crazy." 

_Kristen?_ She hadn't heard that name in years. 

"Whatever happened to her?" 

Turning on the stool, Carmen casually glanced at the table. Maria was the dark-haired one. 

"I don't know. Richie never told me and now he's gone so..." 

Walking to the table, Carmen said, "Excuse me. Did I hear you mention Kristen? Is that Kristen who owns the modeling agencies?" 

Maria nodded. "Do you know her?" 

"Barely. Do you know where I can find her?" 

"Sorry, no. I don't think you'd want to either. She's crazy." 

"Oh, I know. I'd still be interested in tracking her down." 

Fumbling though her purse, Maria handed her a card. "Try him. He was good friends with Richie and apparently knows Kristen too." 

"Thank you," Carmen said. 

"Be careful. She tried to kill me." 

Looking in the large, brown eyes Carmen nodded. "I will." 

  
At four in the afternoon the next day Carmen looked at the building: DeSalvo's Dojo. She didn't bother calling first. It was a place of business and she liked the aspect of surprising him. Less chance he would try to evade her questions and she could read his face better than his voice. 

She entered the double doors and stopped. She'd expected him to be Immortal and she was right. 

Coming out of his office, she put him at six feet tall. He was muscular, but not overly so. His hair was dark and cut short, and his eyes same color as hers. The dark blue shirt and black slacks, emphasized his dark looks. For a split second he reminded her of Michael. 

"I'm Duncan MacLeod," he said, standing a few feet away from her. 

"Carmen Lopez. I need some information." 

"Information?" Raising an eyebrow, he took in the woman before him dressed in black. From her stance and ease with which she stood in the dojo, he guessed she was way older than she looked. Maybe older than him. A flicker of recognition came over him, but it was gone just as quick. 

She walked to the wall where the swords hung. "Nice collection." Her hand stroked one of the swords. "Kristen. Do you know where I can find her?" 

"Please come to my office." Leading the way, MacLeod knew she was not going to like what he told her. 

* * *

Duncan sat behind the desk and he motioned her to the other chair. The woman was barely five four. Her skin was the same color as his and her dark, loose curls hung down her back and bounced as she sat. Her full lips were painted a dusty rose and large eyes were framed with long lashes and perfectly groomed eyebrows. 

"So what do you need to know about Kristen?" 

"I need to know where I can find her." 

"To kill her?" he asked, all ready knowing the answer. 

"Of course, but not before making her suffer," she said, coolly, gauging his reaction. 

"Who did she kill?" 

"My husband and son." 

"How long ago?" 

"Eighteen years ago. Look, either you know where she is or..." 

"I'm sorry." Methos had been right. He should have killed Kristen a long time ago. She had made so many suffer and now this woman before him wanted revenge she would never have. 

"Don't be sorry. Tell me where she is." 

"She's dead." 

"Did you...?" 

"No. Someone else." 

"Was it Richie?" Seeing his confusion, she added, "I met one of his friends last night, Maria. She mentioned him. Told me you might know where Kristen is." 

His eyes locked with hers and she knew she'd touched on a sore topic. "No. Richie was involved with Kristen but he couldn't kill her either." 

"Wait. So you were involved with her at one point as well?" she asked, picking up on his wording. "Let me guess, she came after you because you rejected her. Then she hooks up with Richie and he rejects her and tried to kill him and Maria?" 

"How did you..." 

"Kristen wanted my husband, and when he rejected her she killed his son in front of him then took his head." 

"He was Immortal?" He remembered Methos' words as he had held his own sword against him. _Do you know how many Immortals she's killed? Do you want a list?_

"Yes. He married a woman with a son and adopted him. She died when he was four and he continued raising him. Then I came along. We married when Ethan was six. Three years later they were gone. What's your story?" 

"I met Kristen a couple centuries ago. She killed a friend of mine when I wanted to leave her. She tried the same thing with Richie." 

_You should have killed her back then,_ Carmen thought, but left it unspoken. "So if you didn't, then who?" 

"It doesn't matter at this point, does it?" 

"I guess not. I just wish I would have been the one to do it." 

"Revenge is never that sweet." 

"Then you've never done it properly." She smiled. "I'd like to meet the man who had the... courage to take her head." 

  
Carmen paused, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. She stood and saw Duncan looking over her shoulder. Another Immortal had entered the dojo and she knew exactly who it was. 

"Well, here he is," he said motioning behind her. 

"Hey, MacLeod...Carmen." 

She couldn't believe it. There he was after nine, or was it ten, years of no contact. Not a call, not an email, not a dream. Not a word that he had killed Kristen all those years ago. Furious, Carmen stormed out of the office. "You! You killed Kristen and didn't tell me?" 

Methos had known sooner or later he'd have to deal with her again. He'd been hoping it wasn't this soon after arriving in Washington. He'd hoped he'd beat her to MacLeod. 

Before Duncan could stop her, she withdrew her sword and pierced Methos in the abdomen. 

"Hey!" Duncan pulled her away as Methos dropped to the floor. He had a sudden flashback to Cassandra lunging at Methos. 

"Let go of me. I'm going to kill him over and over again!" 

"That was totally unnecessary," grunted Methos, trying to stand. 

Carmen struggled in Duncan's arms. "I wanted to take her head, you...let go of me!" 

"It's all right, MacLeod. Let her go." 

"No. Give me a few minutes," he said, taking the struggling woman to the elevator. "Then come up." 

Dragging her into the lift, he let go of her. "Calm down." 

"Calm down? That woman destroyed my life! I wanted to be the one to take her head. I wanted it!" 

Lifting the gate Duncan walked into the kitchen, pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of his favorite whiskey. "Here. Drink." 

He remembered that night on the beach when Methos challenged Kristen. Remembered the look on his face, remembered how harsh his voice sounded. He remembered Kristen's eyes pleading with his own. All he could do was turn away. He couldn't interfere in their battle. 

He couldn't understand why Methos was insistent on killing her and the old Immortal never offered a reason. Now he knew. 

Downing it in one gulp, Carmen let the liquid burn down her throat. Sitting on the leather sofa, she felt Methos approaching. 

"Stay put and be calm." 

"Is it safe?" he asked, dropping his duffel bag on the floor. 

"You're a jerk," she said, standing. He still wore his hair short and of course, he hadn't changed since she'd last seen him. He wore blue jeans and a black Henley shirt, which now sported a hole where she had pierced him. "When did this happen?" 

"It was about fourteen years ago," Duncan said at Methos' silence. 

He saw her eyes flash at Methos. "That long ago?" Carmen thought back. "You son of a...you left me in Santorini, came here...killed Kristen...then you met Alexa...we went back to...then your friend died....we...then...you came here to see me and...jerk, jerk, jerk! Thirteen years...and you didn't think to tell me?" She rushed at him and Duncan caught her once more. 

"I didn't want you taking her head," Methos said, pulling off his shirt, revealing the t-shirt that also had a hole in it. Taking a beer from the fridge he added, "I didn't want to take it either, but MacLeod was being a boy scout." 

"It was not your decision to make!" Carmen looked at Duncan. "I won't hurt him much, I promise. Let me go." She watched Methos plop himself on the sofa. Duncan released his grip on her. The old guy deserved what he got at this point. 

"You know what Michael and Ethan meant to me." Carmen punched his arm. "Answer me!" 

"I'm a jerk," he shrugged, not looking at her. 

Carmen slapped him on the head and went to the lift. "I'm sorry Duncan. I didn't mean to involve you in this." 

As the lift buzzed its way down, Duncan pushed Methos' feet off the coffee table. "Why didn't you tell her? She had a right to know." _I had a right to know,_ thought Duncan. 

"I forgot." 

"Why didn't you just let her kill Kristen? Carmen seems to handle her sword pretty well." 

Methos did everything for a reason. It might not be obvious to those who didn't know him, but Duncan liked to think that he did. It suddenly came to him, but the screeching sounds of tires coming to a stop and a thump caused him to run to the window. 

"She's been hit by a car," Duncan said as they both ran downstairs. 

* * *

After many assurances from "Dr. Adam Pierson" and Duncan MacLeod, the shaken driver left, with promises to come back in the morning to check on Carmen and make sure she really was all right. 

"Adam" had convinced the old man that she was fine, just stunned and he could come back in the morning and see she was in one piece. Duncan offered to pay for the damage on his car so he wouldn't have to file an insurance claim. 

Placing her on the bed, Methos sat on the bed and smoothed the curls from her face. MacLeod watched the tenderness he displayed with Carmen. Shaking his head he retreated into the kitchen. This was another part of Methos' life he had known nothing about. 

Methos frowned. The bruises were gone and the little bolts of lightning flashed over her lip, healing it instantly. Too bad other wounds didn't heal that quickly. 

Gasping for breath she sat on the bed. "Ow." Looking into hazel eyes she asked, "The old man..." 

"He's fine." 

MacLeod handed her a glass of water. "He's coming back in the morning to make sure you're all right. Methos told him he was a doctor and you were just stunned." 

"Thank goodness. I was careless..." 

"You were mad," Methos corrected. 

"Jerk," she said, trying to stand. "Ugh, my head." 

"Relax," Duncan said, motioning her to sit back down. "I'll make us some dinner. Why don't you freshen up? Towels under the sink." Walking over to the armoire, he fumbled in it for a few seconds. "Here," he said. "They'll be big, but at least clean." 

"Thanks, Duncan." Pushing past Methos, she stuck her tongue out at him. 

"Want me to scrub your back?" he asked. 

"I hate you," she said, and slammed the door behind her. 

"Why do you antagonize her?" 

"It's fun." 

"Carmen's the reason you were pushing for me to kill Kristen. Then you tried to get Richie to do it." 

Silence from Methos as he took another beer from the fridge. "If Carmen took her head, she would see the images of how her husband and son died. You didn't want that to be the last thing she remembered of them. _You_ didn't want to take Kristen's head, because then you'd see Michael's memories of Carmen." 

Methos took another sip of the beer thinking back to the night he took Kristen's head on the beach. MacLeod had been surprised when he'd shown up, never really thinking he'd go as far as taking her head himself, but he'd hidden well his reason for wanting Kristen dead. 

Kristen, not even looking at him, asking who he was and his response had been, "A man who was born long before the age of chivalry." 

What MacLeod never heard were his last words to Kristen. "This is payback for Michael and Ethan." 

Duncan added, "Then you took off with Alexa." 

"Are you making dinner or not?" Methos asked, sprawling on the sofa. He was not comfortable with Duncan's line of reasoning. It was the truth and he hated being figured out so easily. He hadn't wanted to take Kristen's head for the very reason Mac had stated. Once he had taken her quickening, he had seen...no, felt...Michael's love for Carmen. Had seen her in his arms, had seen how happy she'd been. It was too much and he decided to stay in Seacouver and that's when he'd met Alexa. 

Smacking his head, like Carmen had done, he said, "You love her." 

* * *

Accepting another glass of wine, Carmen leaned back into the chair. "That was delicious, Duncan. I can't believe I've been here almost a decade and never ran into you. I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages." The big white shirt hung over the bigger grey sweat pants. Along with a makeup-free face, she looked like a teenager. 

"I just got back from Paris a couple weeks ago," he said, pleased she had enjoyed his dinner. He'd noticed she'd barely said a word to Methos and the old guy didn't seem to care. The smirk on his face told him they'd gone through this scenario many times before. "So tell me, how did you two meet?" 

Methos looked at Carmen. Without looking at him, she said, "It's as much your story as it is mine. Besides, if Duncan knows who you are...what you _were_...it means you trust him, right?" 

"As much as I trust you," he said softly. 

Carmen took another sip recalling the day Methos entered her life. 

_22 B.C., Rome_

Isadora shook the sand off her sandals. She couldn't wait to get back to Greece. Her head snapped up when she felt the approach of an Immortal...no two. There were two of them. 

Retrieving her sword, she watched as the couple approached. The woman was slightly taller than her and the man even taller. 

Everyone was at the festival. She hated festivals. She'd died over 900 years ago at one and now here she was again in trouble all because people were at a festival. The rules said one on one, but she knew not everyone held to that rule. Either way she'd lose. 

"Husband, do you want the honors or should I?" asked the woman. The man laughed. 

"I'll do it. I don't think she'll put much of a fight," he said, approaching with extended sword. 

"And if I kill you, she takes my head," Isadora said. "No, thank you." 

"No choice," he said and charged. 

Isadora blocked and parried. She knew she didn't have the strength to fight him all night. Sooner or later she'd tire out and he'd take her head if she didn't take his. Either way she was going to lose hers. From a distance she saw a rider approaching on a black horse. 

"Someone's coming! It's against the rules," she shouted. 

"I don't care!" He continued his assault and drew first blood. 

Pausing momentarily, they both looked toward the clearing. The rider was Immortal. He paused before the trio knowing he would stay and fight. The couple had left a trail of dead Immortals by breaking the rules. He would not allow them to take this woman's head. 

"You can't interfere," shouted the tall woman charging at the intruder with her sword. 

Isadora looked at the tall man who nodded. With the wife engaged in battle with the stranger the battle was now even. She would fight this man and take his head. Then deal with the stranger if she had to. 

"I fought the wife, she fought the husband. We won. The quickenings crossed and voila!" said Methos. 

"And that's how you two became friends?" Duncan asked, not surprised that Methos had been involved in a previous crossed quickening. 

Carmen laughed. "Hardly. I thought for sure he was going to take my head as well. But he just left without a word." 

"So what did you do, follow him?" 

Wrinkling her nose, she said, "Why would I do that?" 

Shrugging, MacLeod poured himself another glass of wine. "Protection?" 

Reaching for the bottle, Carmen refilled her glass. "Didn't need his protection...still don't. Want me to prove it?" 

Changing the subject, Duncan continued. "So, when did you guys meet up next?" 

"We ran into each other a few years later then over the next few centuries. Sometimes we ran in the same circles, had the same acquaintances. Mostly we stayed out of each other's way." 

Methos started laughing. "Remember the time in Spain-" 

Kicking him she said, "I hate Spain. Don't go there." 

"Oh, please do," Duncan said, refilling Methos' glass. This was getting interesting. From the previous account, he surmised she was a little over 3,000 years old. There were plenty of things he didn't know about his friend and Carmen probably had a lot of interesting stories. 

Carmen shook her head and remembered every detail of that day. Fortunately, Methos scanned over the more embarrassing details of the account. 

_Mid 17 th Century _

Isabella was pushed onto the auction block with the other captives. The response was immediate. "Cuanto, cuanto?" came the question from several bidders. 

Her skin, although darkened by the sun, was lighter than the other women and her long hair hung in curls to her waist. They thought her to be mixed when in actuality she was one of them. How long had it been since she'd been in her homeland? It was now called Spain and the people still barbaric. 

She scanned the crowd with detest. Her people were no more civilized then the animals who had captured her and the others. Forced onto the ship she had to fend off advances from several of the crew until the captain told them he'd get more money for her if left untouched. 

Animals. She was back in her homeland and wanted nothing more than to go back to England. She should never have left. She should have known that a woman traveling alone was a target even if she was an Immortal. 

"Señores, por favor. Silencio! I see you are eager to bid on this one." 

The captain pulled her forward. The light blue dress she had bought brand new was now torn and dirty. The captain pulled the sleeve off her shoulder exposing her soft flesh. Her fist balled, ready to strike, then she paused, feeling the buzz of an Immortal. Scanning the crowd, her eyes settled on familiar hazel eyes. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement and made his way to the front. 

The captain smiled at him. "Señor Thomas! Are you interested in the señorita?" 

"Very much. Has she been tamed?" 

Thomas stood next to Isabella and cupped her chin in his hand. She swiped it away, her dark eyes burning into his. 

"She still has some fight in her," laughed the captain. "I made sure she wasn't touch by my men." 

"Mmmmm," said Adams. "She's pretty enough." 

Isabella slapped him and the captain raised his hand to strike. 

"It's all right, captain," he said, rubbing his cheek. "She'll get what's coming to her. How much?" 

Isabella seethed. He was humiliating her on purpose! Having known him for centuries, she thought they had finally come to have an understanding. While not friends, they had always been polite when in the same circle. Here he was buying her instead of helping her find a way out. To think her husband had shown him hospitality. 

The other men in the audience were not happy. They had not even been given a chance to bid. She figured Thomas, as he was going by now, had a reputation and was not one to go against. 

The transaction done, Thomas grabbed her by the arm and pulled her behind him. The crowd cheered. She was unaware of where he was taking her until he pulled her into the inn. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. 

"My new prize!" he yelled to the men in the pub. The raucous made her angrier and she started to hit his back and kick. He went up the stairs and into a room. 

Throwing her on the bed, he said, "Calm down." 

"I'll kill you if you touch me, Methos." Her voice was low and raspy, her face flush with anger. He felt the venom coming through loud and clear. 

With raised eyebrow, he said, "You do that, they'll take your head." 

Isabella stood. "I don't care. You will not take me by force." 

Methos bridged the gap between them. "Those days are over for me, Bella," he said softly. "If I wanted you in my bed I know of better ways than by force. I wasn't going to let one of those men take you." 

"I don't understand." Her brown eyes searched his for truth. She'd found out about his past during a drunken stupor he'd had with her husband a century ago. The stories he told had made her sick. She never told Gregory she and Methos had known each other for years. That would raise too many questions she couldn't answer. She didn't know the man he was during his Horsemen days, she only knew the one who'd fought along side her then disappeared. She knew the man her husband had befriended and grown to consider a good friend. Her husband had invited him to stay after finding him in the woods injured. When he'd healed in front of him, Gregory had insisted on Methos staying and hearing all about his life. At first she had been leery, but Methos had never looked at her inappropriately or said anything indecent toward her. He'd been gracious and kind to both of them but she knew change did not come easy. 

"I wish no harm to come to you. Especially the kind they would inflict on a woman. If they found out you were Immortal it would be even worse. Besides, I owe your husband a huge debt of gratitude. He would have wanted me to keep you safe." 

"Thank you. I'm sorry about..." 

"It played well with my plan. We'll leave in the morning. I'll take you wherever you want to go." 

"That's when we developed a friendship of sorts," he said, raising his glass to his lips and looking at Carmen. 

"More like I grew to despise you less," she quipped, refilling her glass once more. 

"Whatever you say, love." 

"Jerk." 

"So tell me, Carmen. When did he finally grow on you?" 

"Grow on me? Like a fungus you mean?" She giggled. 

"Enough wine for you." Methos took the glass from her and started clearing the table. 

_Odd,_ thought MacLeod. Methos never lifted a finger to help. This woman was under his skin and he was enjoying seeing the old guy squirm. 

Carmen took Duncan's glass and refilled it for herself. "Spoilsport," she said. "Let's see, must've been early 1800s. I was married, hHe was married. My husband wanted children. Of course, I couldn't give him any. Anyway, my husband's sister was marrying his wife's cousin. That's right, isn't it, Methos?" 

He grunted in acknowledgement. 

"I knew he was living within a few miles, but I hadn't seen him in about five years or so." Shaking her head, Carmen said, "It's funny how certain events can completely change your life." 

_1812_

Isabella looked for Jeremy and spotted him talking with a group of men. She wished for the night to be over so they could continue their conversation. There was something bothering him and their conversation had been cut short. 

Heading to the garden, she inhaled the smell of the roses. Leaning over the rails she took a deep breath of the sweet flowers. The familiar quickening unsettled her. 

"Evening, Isabella." Hazel eyes looked into brown ones. 

"Nice to see you again..." 

"Dr. Benjamin Adams." Seeing the surprise in her face, he shrugged. He was more surprised at himself than she could ever be that he'd become a doctor. "You look beautiful," he said, his eyes taking in the dark green silk dress, which exposed her soft shoulders. They settled back on her eyes. 

"I'd heard you would be attending the wedding. It never amazes me that we keep running into each other." She didn't mention the fact that she'd discovered his secret about the dreams. The dreams when he'd come to her and take her into his bed and make love to her. It had been going on for decades and the discovery at first angered her, but she learned to use it to her advantage at times. She felt herself blushing and turned back to face the garden. 

"Some would say it's fate." 

Laughing she said, "I don't believe in fate. If I did, I certainly wouldn't think I deserved a life of Immortality." 

"What life would you say you deserved?" he asked softly, leaning against the garden railing. 

"I don't know. Maybe a life with children?" 

"That can never be." 

"I know. Jeremy wants children and he will never have them with me. Sometimes I want to tell him what I am..." 

"Don't. It's not worth it. He's not worth it." 

"You don't even know him." Isabella smiled. 

"Trust me, I know. Can I walk you back in?" he asked, offering his arm. 

"Yes, thank you." 

"Later that evening, we found my husband and his wife in the library. They were arguing about her pregnancy. That's how I found out they'd been having an affair. Methos had already known." 

"I'm sorry," Duncan said. "What did you do?" 

"Methos told them the child wasn't...couldn't be his. He secured me a healthy sum of money from Jeremy and we left letting people think it was Methos and I who were having the affair." 

"Why?" 

Smiling, Carmen said, "There was an innocent child about to be born. Why should the child be labeled a bastard and its mother an adulteress? I wasn't going to stay with Jeremy and the old guy wasn't going to stay with Sylvie. So we left. I heard they went on to have five more children." 

He noted the melancholy in her voice. A family of one's own. He'd wanted the same thing himself. 

"Enough about children," Methos said. "Imagine the horrors they'd go through having Immortals coming after their parents, not to mention the diaper changes." He was grateful she hadn't added the fact that he'd torched Jeremy's store before taking her to Santorini or the connection with the dreams. That was where they had become friends, lovers and confidantes. 

"That's probably why we can't have any, Jerko," she murmured. "I better go. Too much wine, too much food and not enough sleep." 

"I'll take you home," Methos offered. 

"Nope. I'm still mad at you." She yawned. "I can get there myself." 

Duncan rose. "Why don't you just stay? Mr. Henrikson will be by first thing in the morning." He ignored Methos' eyes boring into him. 

"Thanks, Duncan, but I don't want to put you out." 

"Not a problem. Besides, we can't risk anything happening to you and Mr. Henrikson feeling guilt. Take the bed. I'll take the couch." To Methos, he said, "You can take the floor." 

* * *

Methos woke with a start. He'd been dreaming he was back in the Amazon and being squeezed by an anaconda. "Bloody sleeping bag." Stretching his 5,000 year old body, he went into the bathroom. Hearing the shower, he said, "Sorry, Mac." 

Carmen's head appeared around the side of the shower curtain. "Wrong immortal. Duncan went to get me a change of clothes. You must be half asleep if you can't tell the difference." 

"Mmph. I haven't even seen your house and you're letting that Highlander get your clothes?" 

"Jealous much?" she snickered, disappearing behind the curtain. 

Leaning against the sink, Methos flushed the toilet. 

"Ow! Jerk!" The water turned cold making her shiver. "It's not my fault you've been gone over nine years without a word." 

"You had that house last time I was here. Yet, we went to my...never mind." 

"Yeah and never mind you have that colossal place in England!" she yelled, getting out of the shower. She reached for the towel and saw he held it away from her. 

"Give it to me!" 

"Come get it," he dared, his eyes scanning her body. She was a bit paler than when he'd seen her nine years ago, but then again that had been a particularly hot summer and her skin had been darkened by the sun. 

"You are such a..." 

"Jerk. I know." 

Pushing past him, she left a trail of water behind her as she yanked the comforter off the bed. He pulled it away from her. 

"Stop acting like a brat," she said. "I'm freezing." 

"Say sorry." 

"No," she said. The presence of another Immortal arriving made her reconsider. Seeing the smirk on his face, she stood her ground. Two could play at this game. She smiled, crossing her arms. 

"Hey, I got..." MacLeod looked at Carmen standing in front of his bed naked, with Methos holding the towel and the comforter away from her. "What's going on?" 

"Methos won't let me have the towel. He just wants you standing their looking at me NAKED!" she screamed, pulling the towel out of Methos' hands. 

"You two need to grow up," MacLeod said, heading to the kitchen to hide his embarrassment. "I have your clothes." 

"I'll get them for you," Methos laughed, heading to MacLeod. 

"No, you don't," she said, dropping the towel and running to the living room and right into Duncan. With dripping hair and wet feet, she started to slip and instinctively his arms reached around her bare back. "Sorry!" She grabbed hold of his shoulders and they fell to the floor. 

It wasn't funny anymore. Carmen lay naked beneath Duncan as he struggled to get up. This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. 

Duncan helped Carmen up and saw her face redden. Smoothing the hair from her eyes he said, "Fun as that might have been, I think you should get dressed now." 

"Yeah, me too." She accepted the bag he handed her and stuck out her tongue at Methos as she passed him. 

Methos glared at Duncan, who hadn't taken his eyes off her retreating form. 

"You're the one who wouldn't give her the towel." Motioning to the floor, he said, "You better dry it up, before she falls again." 

* * *

An hour later, Carmen was downstairs and thanking Mr. Henrikson for forgiving her carelessness. The deep plum sweater she wore complimented her coloring and the dark jeans hugged her generous curves. Her cheeks glowed and she smiled at him the whole time. He saw she was healthy, safe and sound. 

As he left the dojo, Carmen sighed. "Well, glad that's over!" Trying to make a quick exit, she kissed Duncan on the cheek. "Thank you for your hospitality and I'm sorry about Methos." 

Shaking his head, Duncan said, "You two..." 

All three faced the door. "This is like Immortal Central Station around here," she muttered. 

"Duncan! Adam!" Amanda looked at the woman and smiled. "Carmen! Oh my...you're all right. I..." 

Both men noticed the slight shake Carmen gave Amanda. Duncan raised an eyebrow at Amanda and Amanda averted her eyes and focused back on Carmen. Placing a kiss on her cheek, Amanda whispered, "I'm glad you're okay." 

"It's good to see you again Amanda," Carmen said. "It's been a long time." 

"How do you two know each other?" Methos asked. "And by the way Amanda, she knows who I am." 

Carmen gave him a dirty look. "None of your business. But I'm curious Methos, how is it that you fought so hard to keep your existence a secret and it seems everyone knows who you are." 

"You're avoiding the question." 

"And you're still a jerk." 

"Are they always like this?" Amanda asked Duncan. 

"You don't know the half of it. They've been at it since yesterday nonstop," he said recalling Carmen's naked form beneath him. 

"He started," Carmen said. "But as of now, I'm ending it. Goodbye." 

Methos' arm shot out. "You're not getting rid of me that easy." 

"Please. I don't need to get rid of you. You always do a disappearing act. I've been here nine years. By the way, what made you suddenly come back?" she asked, cocking her head toward Duncan. 

Methos stared into her eyes. He knew every detail of her face and every inch of her body. Knew what every expression meant, what her eyes were telling him that no one else would know. She all ready knew the answer to her question. He let go of her arm. 

"Geez, you two. Get a room!" Amanda said, noting the softness with which Methos looked at Carmen and although angry, Carmen's eyes said otherwise. 

Duncan laughed. "I think they'd kill each other first." 

"It was nice to meet you Duncan, nice seeing you again Amanda." 

"Oh, come on Carmen," Amanda said, hooking her arm with hers and walking her back to the men. "Why don't you stick around or better yet, you and I will do lunch and we can meet the guys later at Joe's?" 

"Just think," Duncan added, "you must have some embarrassing stories of the old guy." 

"Yes, please," Amanda said. 

Shaking her head, Carmen relented. "Fine! But I warn you, one of us might die by the end of the night." 

* * *

Amanda's entrance at JOE'S turned a few heads. Her eyes immediately went to the table where Duncan and Methos sat. She went to the bar, kissed Joe on the cheek and made her way to their table. 

"Joe's is hopping tonight," she said. 

"Where's Carmen?" Methos asked. He'd pushed her a little too far this morning. Also knew her temperament and knew she might pull a disappearing act. 

"Hello to you too. She's outside on the phone." Amanda saw him raise an eyebrow in question. "Something about a painting." 

"Ah," Methos said, then paused. They looked in the direction of the door and saw Carmen walk in scowling. Making her way to the bar, she smiled at Joe. 

"Welcome back, Ms. Lopez. What can I get you?" 

"Please, call me Carmen. I'd like something that will knock me into next week." 

"Coming right up!" Joe said, limping away. 

"So, Lopez huh?" 

Carmen looked at the man next to her, who now had his eyes on her derriere. She turned her attention back to bar ignoring the would-be lothario. 

"Any relation to Jennifer?" 

"Go away," she said. Another guy thought comparing her backside to Jennifer Lopez's would get him somewhere. 

"Hey, I'm trying to be nice," he said, his hand stroking her arm. 

"The lady said go away," Methos growled. 

Putting up his hands, he said, "Hey, she's all yours." 

Seeing the man retreat, Carmen said, "That wasn't necessary. I had it under control." 

"Is this guy bothering you Carmen?" Joe asked smiling. "I'll throw him out if you want." 

"Oh geez. Don't tell me you two are friends?" she said, feigning annoyance. Methos whispered in her ear and her eyes widened. "Ah. Curiouser and curiouser." 

Taking her drink, Carmen walked to a table, wanting to get away from Methos. Although the information was surprising, the reaction to his warm breath on her neck was not. Her senses had reacted immediately. 

Sitting next to her, Amanda, said, "So, what's up with you and Adam?" 

"What's up with this circle of friends? Immortals and Watchers drinking together?" 

"Don't change the subject. You avoided it at lunch." 

"Amanda, drop it," Duncan said. "Refill?" he asked taking the tall woman's glass. Amanda nodded. Carmen asked for a beer. Out of earshot Amanda nudged Carmen. "Well?" 

"Look, we're friends most of the time, enemies once in a while. He antagonizes me, I antagonize him and in between we try not to kill each other...often." 

"I thought Mac and I were complicated." 

Carmen's gaze went back to the bar where Duncan and Methos were deep in conversation with Joe. Shaking her head, she put the cold glass to her lips, trying to look away from Methos. Her eyes traveled up his slim, muscular legs, to his hips and up his blue clad back. They rested on the back of his head. 

"Earth to Carmen." Amanda laughed. "You got it bad!" 

"Shhh," giggled Carmen. "You have it bad too. So don't start because you won't win." 

"What's so funny?" Duncan sat next to Amanda, placing the drinks in front of them. 

"Nothing," they said in unison. 

The lanky Immortal sat down next to Carmen. "They were talking about us." 

"You think too much of yourself," Carmen said. How she wished she was back at her house, in bed reading a book! Nine years! Nine years without a word and in one evening she finds out Kristen is dead, he took her head and never told her about it and that he's continued his association with the Watchers. Worse, he still got under her skin. 

"And you think too much, period." 

"Here we go," groaned Duncan. He'd met her just a little over 24 hours ago and knew as much about her as he did about Methos. Over 3,000 years old, lived in Spain, Egypt, England, Paris, Greece, Scotland, Brazil, Morocco and Italy at least. She lost a husband and child to Kristen, living in Seacouver for about ten years, knew about the Watchers and probably in love with the oldest Immortal. 

"I'll behave," Carmen promised. 

"Duncan, how about a dance?" Amanda purred, already pulling him to his feet. 

Smiling, Carmen shook her head. She didn't know Amanda well, but did know she went after what she wanted. The tall, thin woman had been amazing in Paris when she'd needed her help. Watching them dance, she leaned back and took another sip of the beer. 

She could feel him looking at her, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. When he leaned in, she said, "Stop." 

"How do you know Amanda?" 

"Nosy." 

"I'm not falling for it," he said. "Look at me." 

Brown eyes met hazel ones. How she hated the way he made her feel! All she wanted to do was kiss him, feel his warmth, feel his arms around her, fall asleep with him. She didn't want to discuss the past. "I met her in Paris a few years ago." 

"What happened?" 

"She helped me out of a situation, that's all." 

"She helped _you_ out?" Shaking his head he said, "She's the one who usually needs help." 

"It was nothing. Some creep took me by surprise, attacked me and left me for dead." 

"That's most of the truth," he said staring into her eyes. Taken by surprise? Now _that_ was surprising. The thought of any man hitting her made him angry. Angry at her for being careless and angry at himself. How many times had he done the same thing during his horsemen days? "Did he..." 

"No, he didn't." 

He hid the relief that washed over him. "There's more to it." 

Sighing, Carmen said, "It's enough. I'm alive and well and he got his in the end." 

"I'll drop it for now." 

"Gee, thanks." A few minutes of silence and Carmen couldn't stand it anymore. "I know it wasn't a coincidence you and Amanda showing up when you did." 

Leaning back on the chair he smiled. "You know me too well." 

"I guess after what I did to that skinny red-head who was flirting with you in Italy I deserve a payback." 

Laughing, Methos shook his head. "You were in rare form that night. Fortunately, she was Immortal. I've never seen you jealous." 

"Mmm. Or you so pleased with yourself that you got that reaction out of me for once. I heard she married some rich mortal twenty years ago." 

"They're still married." 

"Mmm, more power to them." 

"You guys still at it?" Duncan teased, holding the chair for Amanda. 

"It's what we do, Highlander," she said. Feeling her phone vibrate, she excused herself and made her way through the crowd to the outside for some quiet. 

Methos brought the bottle to his lips as he watched her jean clad hips sway away from him. Duncan smiled amused at seeing his friend rattled by this woman he'd known for centuries. 

Amanda nudged him. "Did you ever get married?" 

"No and I don't want to talk about it, Amanda." 

"Married?" asked Duncan. 

"Not important," Methos said, gesturing toward Carmen. Amanda would bring that up. Never mind that she'd tried to seduce him at the beach house. She wouldn't bring _that_ up to MacLeod. 

Carmen took her seat between Amanda and Methos. "Bad news?" Amanda asked. 

"Apparently, that painting I wanted was sold from under me." Carmen noticed the slight arch of Duncan's brow and looked at Methos. "Something I should know about?" 

"Uh, Amanda, how about another dance?" 

"No, this is getting interesting," she said, as Duncan pulled her to her feet and onto the dance floor. 

"Methos, you didn't," she said, between clenched teeth. 

"Let me take you home," he said, smiling. 

"Oh, we're going all right, but not to my home. I'm going to..." 

"Yes, I know, kill me." 

Standing, he pulled her to her feet. "Please not this barbarian stuff again." Not bothering to resist she let him lead her outside. 

"Should we bother going after them?" asked Amanda, curiosity getting the better of her. 

"They have a long history together. They'll work it out." He hoped. 

* * *

Reaching over and feeling the empty bed, his eyes fluttered opened. The sun was rising, casting dancing shadows on the pale blue-green walls. The white curtains filtered the light, reminding him of Santorini. 

Pulling up his jeans, he made his way down the stairs and felt her presence immediately. 

"You're up early," he said, accepting the hot coffee she offered. 

"Sorry. I hope I didn't wake you," she said, scanning his bare chest, blushing at the way she had dug her nails into him last night. "Duncan and Amanda want to have breakfast. I think they want to make sure you're still alive." 

"Barely." He smiled, when he saw the unruly curls and the smudged mascara. His finger wiped under her eye. 

"I'm a mess." 

"Yes, you are," he said softly. 

"Jerk," she said, turning her back to him, embarrassed how easily they had fallen into each other's arms again. She had sworn she'd be stronger. The last time they were together she swore she'd make him squirm for days. Having started a new life in Seacouver she had made peace with the fact that after ten years he'd probably met someone and was in marital bliss once again. 

Walking over to the mantel, Carmen stared at the painting and took a sip of the hot coffee. He'd let her yell at him all the while smiling and knowing the painting already hung on her wall. He came up behind her, and put his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. "You are still as beautiful now as you were then." 

"Well, I'm Immortal. I haven't aged." 

"I mean on the inside," he said, not reminding her of the countless times he had witnessed her acts of kindness. 

They stared at the painting of Carmen, or Isadora as she went by then. The lost Raphael canvas had been found several years ago and she'd discovered it was on its way to Seacouver to be sold at auction. It was not a classic Raphael painting, having been one of his first, but she'd been immortalized on canvas and she'd wanted it for a long time. The call last night had informed her it had been sold before it had even gotten to Washington. 

Her back had been to Raphael and she was looking over her shoulder, her long dark hair cascading down her back and stopping below her waist. The swell of her breast was visible and the dark eyes smiling at him. She remembered that day vividly. She'd met him at the home of mutual friends and he'd begged her to model for him. Having agreed, he took her into a clearing in the woods. She'd taken off the simple dress she wore and waited for his instructions. 

The sun was in front of her and peeking through the trees casting dancing shadows on her skin as the breeze blew. She remembered she'd been startled by something Raphael had said and that's when she'd looked over her shoulder at him. His commanding voice told her not to move and she hadn't. 

Staring at the painting, she noticed Raphael had painted a figure standing in the background. Disengaging herself from his arms she moved closer and tilted her head. "There was someone else there. Look." 

"Mmm," he said, moving behind her. "So there is." 

"Wh...you?" Turning to face him, she asked again. "That was you?" 

"You are kind of slow sometimes aren't you?" he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

"What do you mean?" Carmen knew for a fact she hadn't run into him during that time period. 

"Who do you think talked Raphael into painting you?" 

"And to think I was flattered. Obviously, it wasn't one of his better ones. I sucked as a model. This never made it to any gallery." 

"This was a private commission." 

"Then how did it get out of your possession?" she said, crossing her arms, not wanting to ask why he'd wanted a painting of her. 

"Wife number 52, or was it 54? She didn't like it. I had a friend keep it for me, but he lost his head and his possessions were sold and resold. It was lost until four years ago." 

"Ah, you and your uppity women." was all she said. He was always full of surprises. 

"Let's go back to bed," he said, pulling her closer. 

"Insatiable as always." Offering her lips to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He groaned when the doorbell rang. 

"Sorry." Opening the door she smiled. "Jen, how are you? Come in." 

Jennifer Young blushed when she saw the bare-chested man leaning against the wall. "I'm sorry. Is this not a good time?" 

"It's fine. You just need a signature right?" Carmen motioned to the sofa, not bothering with introductions. 

"Yes, and we'll be all set." Handing her the paperwork, she pointed to the places that needed her signature. Within a minute Carmen had signed and was walking her back outside. "I'll see you next week." 

"What was that all about?" 

"I sold the house." 

Frowning, he asked, "Why?" 

"I'm the slow one? Just think about it for a minute it. I'm going to get ready. We, if you'd like to come, are meeting Duncan and Amanda in twenty minutes." She ran upstairs. He waited until he heard the shower start and picked up the papers. 

It was dated yesterday. She'd lost money on the deal. Like most old Immortals she'd planned for the future and never had to work again if she didn't want to. She could take the loss. If she sold the house, it meant she was leaving Washington. The buyers were a young couple, no doubt newly married. Scanning over the other details, he wondered if he'd made a mistake in coming back. What would be so bad about her and MacLeod? "Everything," he said to himself. Taking the steps two by two, he overheard her say, "Have an alibi. Bye." 

"It's not polite to eavesdrop, Methos." He walked in just in time to see her pulling on a black t-shirt. 

"I don't want to know do I?" 

"No." 

"You sold the house because of me." He made her face him. Her brown eyes were large and her head cocked to one side. 

"Of course I did. I can't live here now that you've been in my bed. I could never bring anyone else here and not think of you. That's why I didn't bring you here the last time, dodo." Carmen placed a kiss on his chin. She'd seen the disbelief in his face before, but was surprised to see it now. "It's what we do Methos. That's why you haven't invited me to your place in England. You don't want to sell that big old mausoleum. I'm surprised you haven't seen the pattern." 

"I'm sorry..." 

Shaking her head, she ran her hands over his chest, resting them over his heart. The strong beating of it made her smile. "You haven't been sorry about anything in centuries, old man. Besides, I found a great loft just down the block from Duncan." 

  
To be continued... 

* * *

© 2010   
Please send comments to the author! 

03/09/2010 

Background by Sam Roach graphics (I lost the link, but if I find, it I'll link it). 

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